


Fall on Your Knees

by Marks



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Kneeling, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-30
Updated: 2008-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan goes to his knees for Spencer, just not the way Spencer wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall on Your Knees

**Author's Note:**

> So Ryan has gotten into this habit of kneeling in front of Spencer's riser during shows. I don't know, I starting writing it for my birthday. PWP.

Ryan goes to his knees for Spencer, just not the way Spencer wants. This is in front of thousands of people, the neck of Ryan's guitar held high, the twang of feedback still reverberating through the room. Spencer looks away from Ryan, throws his drumsticks to the crowd, and runs off stage.

Sometime, he thinks, maybe, he thinks, sucking in a deep breath and wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his arm. Eventually.

Backstage everyone is laughing, talking, drinking. A beer is pressed into Spencer's hand, condensation clammy against his palm; he tries to give whoever handed it to him a thumbs-up only Ryan is distracting him in ways that Spencer can't ignore. The top two buttons of Ryan's shirt are open and he keeps playing with his collarbone, index finger and middle finger brushing over the skin, back and forth, back and forth, yeah. The venue had been steamyhot so Ryan's hair is plastered by drying sweat to his forehead until he pushes it back, a casual flick of fingers.

Fucking fingers, Spencer thinks and bites his lip. Ryan catches him staring and raises his glass and eyebrows at once, and in the telescope of his mind's eye, Spencer sees Ryan fall to his knees in front of him again like he had fifteen minutes earlier, only this time they're not in front of everyone or maybe they are, and fuck. In real life, Ryan licks his lips and drinks from his glass.

Spencer claims first shower and rushes off, handing his half-empty bottle off to Brendon. He wants to get rid of the erection that's pressed tight against his zipper, can already feel the water beating down against his back and melting the ache from his shoulders and spine. It'll only take a few minutes. Spencer has a lot of practice being silent and even more practice picturing Ryan's mouth.

He's digging through his bag when fingers tighten around his bicep, and it doesn't even take the sideways glance he gives them to know that they're Ryan's. A little thrill rushes through Spencer at that, moving lightning quick from top of his head to the soles of his feet, an electric zig-zag of want.

"Hey," Ryan says. He doesn't step back as Spencer straightens up, pressing them together back-to-front from shoulders to hips. "You okay?"

Spencer lets out a shaky exhale and closes his eyes. "Yeah," he says, and man, he doesn't mean to sound so breathless, but he can't help it and besides he has the convenient excuse of still coming down post-show. It's a good excuse, he tells himself. A real one.

"Liar."

But Spencer can't fool Ryan.

"I'm fine," Spencer insists and jerks his shoulder forward, trying to escape Ryan's grip. Ryan is stronger than he looks, though, and apparently really fucking determined because he doesn't let go.

" _Liar_ ," Ryan says again, this time closer to Spencer's ear, a hot rush of breath that sends a real shiver through him, one that Ryan has to be able to feel and does, based on the way Ryan suddenly stiffens behind him and mutters _oh_ so quietly that he must be saying it to himself. Spencer knows that _oh_ ; it's the same _oh_ Ryan uses every time things are shifting in his brain, locking together and falling into place. It's the _oh_ that means 'Posting pictures to my LiveJournal gets me attention' or 'Maybe a wolf musical isn't the best idea.' And apparently it's the same _oh_ that makes Ryan say, "Holy shit, Spence, you want to fuck me."

Spencer laughs, or rather he tries to, but all that comes out is a wheezy exhale. "What?" he asks, voice squeaking. It's like he's going through puberty all over again, something that he already did once with Ryan there, thanks a lot, and he doesn't want to do that again.

"No, no, you do," Ryan says, and now he's the one laughing, only properly, pressing his nose into the side of Spencer's neck. His fingers still haven't moved. "You totally want to bang me. How did I not notice that? How long?"

"Get off," Spencer says and finally shakes away with success. "Why do you always have to be such an ass?"

Ryan laughs again and grabs Spencer's shoulder, spins him around. "This is not me being an ass. You know better than that."

And he does. He so does.

Ryan stares at him thoughtfully, eyes narrowed as he studies Spencer's face like it's suddenly not the same face he's seen every day for the past fifteen years, and it's only Spencer's defiance that stops him from looking away. Goddamnit, Ryan can outstare anyone; it's downright creepy how long he can go without blinking. Creepy. Right. That's exactly what it is when Ryan's eyes flick down and then up again, one corner of Ryan's mouth quirking. The tip of his tongue darts out, just wetting his upper lip.

Spencer swallows hard and blinks. Ryan falls on his knees.

"Ryan, shit, what…?"

It's not like they're in some secluded spot, or even somewhere with a locked door. Anyone can walk in at any time: It might be Jon's face going from relaxed to shocked when he sees the back of Ryan's head and Spencer looking down; it could be Brendon wide-eyed and tripping over himself to back away as Ryan slides his palms up the back of Spencer's thighs and pulls him forward, hands cupping Spencer's ass, his cheek sliding across Spencer's zipper as he nuzzles him through his pants.

"Can I?" Ryan breathes, exhaling warm through denim so Spencer can feel it against his hip. Spencer tries to do something -- push Ryan away, say no, say yesyesyes, _anything_ \-- but all he can do is whimper.

Ryan's hands slide around to Spencer's front, hooking his fingers into his waistband just to the first knuckle. One of his thumbs stretches to the button on Spencer's jeans, rubbing in a circle; Spencer imagines the metal heating under the pad of Ryan's finger. If it's anything like the heat he feels spreading through his body, that button is going to melt.

Spencer whimpers again, and Ryan pulls back a little to look up. "Can I?" he repeats. His eyes lock with Spencer's again. Spencer feels trapped, pinned down, and he likes it, likes it enough that he pictures Ryan pinning him down in his other ways, maybe flat on his back with Ryan's palms pressed to his wrists, knees digging into his sides. It's like now that he has Ryan on his knees, he can finally supplement that with something else from his imagination.

"Yes. _Yeah_."

Ryan smirks. "I knew it." Fucking cocky bastard. Spencer is asking himself why he keeps him around when Ryan pulls on Spencer's belt, flips open the button on Spencer's fly, and drags the zipper down to remind him. "Say you want to fuck me."

"Damn it, Ryan..."

Ryan mouths Spencer through his underwear. Spencer jerks forward; Ryan leans back. "Say it."

"...I want to fuck you. You know I do," Spencer says, irritation crawling into his throat, the hand he means to put on his hip landing on the back of Ryan's head. "So fucking get on with it already."

God, Spencer wants to wipe the smug smile off of Ryan's stupid face as he pulls Spencer's jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs, but that thought is gone the second Ryan drags his tongue all the way up Spencer's cock, base to head, swirling his tongue around. Spencer moans in a really embarrassing way and jerks forward again, though Ryan's hands are holding his hips hard and inhibiting any real movement.

Ryan rubs his cheek against Spencer's bare leg, against his crotch, and Spencer doesn't understand why that's insanely hot instead of silly until Ryan murmurs, "Me too, Spence. I wanted this too, for a long time now," and sucks him down as far as he can.

Spencer doesn't bother to hold back now, not that he has to with Ryan holding him up. It's not like he's never had blowjobs before, not even that he's never had better ones because Ryan's a little too sloppy and can't take him in very far, but it's Ryan -- it's Ryan's mouth going red and swollen as Spencer slides his cock between Ryan's lips; it's Ryan making noise around him, humming that buzzes against and into Spencer's skin; it's Ryan who drops one of his hands between his own legs, pressing his palm hard against the front of his pants before gripping Spencer's hip again because he's trying not to come in his pants. Ryan is trying not to come in his pants because of _Spencer_. Shit.

"Ryan," Spencer warns as his palms go numb and his chest tightens in a familiar way, tugging hard on Ryan's hair, trying to pull him back, but Ryan stays stubbornly in place, only moving faster and faster, his tongue somehow licking inside his own mouth and adding an extra dimension to the feeling surrounding Spencer's dick. "Oh fuck, _Ryan_ ," Spencer says again, not a warning this time but a broken moan as he comes down Ryan's throat.

Spencer swallows hard and tries to breathe, his hands slipping to Ryan's shoulders. Ryan swallows hard and pulls back, dragging the back of his hand across his abused mouth. Probably Spencer should say something, but the words aren't coming to him. Besides, that's Ryan's department; Spencer likes doing much more.

He pulls on Ryan's shirt, his vest, yanking him to his feet and kisses him before Ryan can get a word out of his mouth. Spencer can taste himself on Ryan's tongue and he tilts his head for more, pushes his mouth hard against Ryan's and forces Ryan's mouth wider. Ryan's hands flutter against Spencer's bare sides and he melts against Spencer, arching so Spencer can feel Ryan's dick digging into his hip. Spencer pulls back and sucks on Ryan's bottom lip, drawing out a moan.

"Want me to take care of that?" Spencer asks, lips just below Ryan's ear.

"Your beard tickles," Ryan complains. Spencer bites his throat and Ryan hisses, "Yes."

The _oh_ that Ryan makes as Spencer pulls out his cock is satisfying, and so is the _oh_ he makes when Spencer starts to stroke, jerking him off in quick, rough movements. Spencer can't keep his mouth off of Ryan now that he's allowed, licking into his mouth, sucking on his jaw, teeth against the shell of his ear, every flash of tongue making Ryan go _oh_ again. Oh, oh, _oh_.

Ryan comes with his fingers tangled in Spencer's hair, his head thrown back and throat exposed. He's still breathing hard when Spencer pushes their foreheads together, and they're still standing like that when someone starts pounding on the door. Spencer jumps away and trips over his own tangled jeans, collapsing in a pile. Ryan looks surprised to have the end of Spencer's headband in his hand.

"Hey, I thought you were going to shower!" Brendon yells from the other side. He hasn't tried the doorknob yet, thank god.

"I am! Don't go in there, asshole!" Spencer yells, making a face at Ryan as he wipes his hand on the floor and struggles to his feet, pulling up his jeans and trying to make himself presentable. Ryan is laughing now and wearing Spencer's headband as he does up his pants.

"I call second," Ryan says calmly, voice a little rough but otherwise giving no indication of what the two of them had been up to.

"What?" says Brendon from the other side of the door, outraged. "Ryan, you're in there too? That's no fair!"

"Too bad." Ryan pats down Spencer's front and nods to himself.

"You going to give that back?" Spencer asks, tugging on the end of his headband.

Ryan shrugs and smiles, his mouth still tellingly red. "Maybe eventually. I kind of missed this look. Think of it as a promise."

He opens the door, and Brendon tumbles inside, still looking confused and annoyed. Spencer grins.

The next night, the next city, the next show, Ryan holds his guitar high, feedback echoing all around. He tugs on the knot of Spencer's headband and goes down on his knees in front of thousands of people.

And he does it when they're alone, too.


End file.
